Facilitating Fate
by ThePurpleRose
Summary: At 17, Yuan is one of the brightest talents the Sylvarant Military Research Facility has, performing experiments on humans to win the Kharlan War. But he doesn't realise how wrong his work is until a red-haired little boy is placed under his care.
1. Prologue

**AN: Okay, this was just an idea that came to me ages ago. I've had it typed for quite a while but I wanted to wait until I'd finished 'Paternity' before posting it. But then I got writer's block on that, so I'm posting this. I have the first three chapters written already, so updates should be fairly regular, but don't expect too much until I've finished my exams.**

**And 'Paternity' fans, I am working on it. It's just taking longer than I expected to get a chapter I'm happy with to share with you all. But I definitely haven't given up on it. I like writing it too much. **

**But on the topic of this fic, it will cover more than you expect. It will include Mithos and Martel, and their quest to save the Giant Kharlan Tree, but it will just be slightly... different. You'll see. I'm really excited by the ideas I've got for this fic. I'm gonna love writing this one. I won't say any more and risk spoiling it. But I have several twists planned...**

**So here's the prologue. I hope you enjoy it! ^_^**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own ToS, but I do own this nice twisty plot, which I hope you like at least a fraction of the amount we all love the game!**_

Yuan rounded the corner, brimming with pride as he clutched his notes in his arms. At seventeen, he was the youngest researcher there and many had sworn he was only there because of the brilliance of his human father, because he had been born here as part of a study on his elven mother. They ignored the results of the rigorous IQ testing he had received in order to be there.

But he had just proved them oh so wrong. It had been a breakthrough, a truly amazing discovery on the use of exspheres to power weapons and the destructive power of those weapons. He had just used one of the weapons, which he called 'the mana-extractor', to gain information and dispose of a Tethe'allan foot soldier, a man who had murdered Sylvaranti soldiers in cold blood.

And his father had been pleased. He'd shown Yuan's research to his superior, who had shown it to his superior, who had awarded Yuan a new project. In his arms, Yuan held an A-ranked file, a top secret specimen that he was taking over from one of the higher level operatives. He'd been told he was to extract knowledge of sealing techniques from the son of a ninja summoner.

He'd been told ninjas were notoriously difficult to crack, but he would do so. He would find out everything there was to find out about this specimen, summoning, sealing and all. This was his big chance to impress them, to make his own mark in the wood, based on his own merit. He would finally prove his worth, away from the shadow of his father, and be recognised as talented in his own right.

By the time he'd arrived in the block in which the subject was held, Yuan was biting down on his lower lip in a bid to quell the urge to smile. It wasn't professional to walk around with a smile on your face; he'd learned this very quickly in the magitechnology centre and the few faces he saw in this remarkably deserted corridor were serious, scarred by frown lines, brows furrowed in thought.

The allocated cell, number 709, loomed in front of him, Yuan's heart rate rising with anticipation, his mind relishing the prospect of a new challenge as he hurried through the process of unlocking the cell to let himself in. He slipped in through the smallest gap in the door possible, as protocol dictated to prevent the escape of the captives who still had their sanity and cunning.

He wouldn't make a single mistake with this project. He was the youngest operative ever to receive the honour of an A-ranked project. If he could get results where the man whose duty he had taken over had failed, he would be promoted for sure. Then he could be on par with his father and the stern-faced human would finally be within his reach instead of on top of the pedestal he could never see the pinnacle of. So Yuan would not permit himself to make a mistake. He had to be flawless.

At first, he could see no experiment. It wasn't until the lights progressively brightened after he turned the dial further up on the wall, that he noticed movement from the single blanket thrown on the bed.

He approached silently, quickly ripping away the covers to reveal his newest project, that had been hiding from the dusky, dull lighting it had been kept under before Yuan's arrival.

Wide, terrified eyes stared up at up from beneath auburn hair as the experiment uncurled and scrambled back on the simple rail bed, bringing its knees up beneath its chin once it was as far from Yuan as it could get.

Yuan stared back. He had been told he'd be responsible of extracting information for a summoner's son, but he hadn't expected the subject to be so young. He found himself regarding a boy who could not have lived for more than six years, huddled on the bed like any other child.

It was hard to think of something so small and innocent looking as a threat. The child was still staring fearfully in his direction, its bony shoulders shaking beneath the thin fabric of its dirty beige tunic. It looked fragile. Yuan doubted he would be able to handle the subject without snapping its shivering form.

He cleared his throat, ignoring how the experiment flinched. There were many ways of gaining information, and common sense told Yuan that a simple interrogation was the right way to start. Although, with a subject so young and afraid, it didn't normally go well unless information was given in return. Young humans were notoriously easy to trick with a false image of kindness and Yuan was sure he would find this one no exception to the rule.

"Hello," Yuan said, sitting down with his legs arranged in a cross on the floor by the foot of the bed, intending his lower position on the floor to make him seem like less of a threat. "My name is Yuan. Can you tell me yours?"

The child blinked, fear and confusion blurring the surface of its eyes. From his new place on the floor, Yuan could see more of the pale face beneath the hair and the angry purple bruises that marred each cheek. It seemed his predecessor had resorted to violence to deal with this subject, maybe even mentally scarred it to the point of being unable to say its own name.

Yuan rose, repositioning himself closer to the child, so that he was now sitting in front of him on the bed in the same position as he had before, casually, calmly, his body opened up to the much smaller one opposite him. He slumped his shoulders downwards, hoping to settle the subject, to make the interrogation easier.

The child cowered, hiding behind its arms, which Yuan noticed were in a worse state than its face as the sleeves that adorned them slid down to reveal more bruises, scabs and burns. It whimpered, terrified tears tumbling down its face, leaving dirty trails across its cheeks.

Yuan waited as its noises dies down, until it was crying silently, creepily for a child, and looking up forlornly and fearfully, its eyes meeting Yuan's own. Yuan smiled, another pair of tears escaping the child's eyes. He slowly raised his hand, stopping the movement every time the subject flinched or winced and looked away, the hand eventually making it up to his chest where he could point to himself.

"My name is Yuan," he said, gesturing to himself.

No recognition showed in the child's eerie, tortured eyes.

"Yuan," he tried again, in case the child was unable to understand the words he spoke. It was possible. And it would explain why he had received no verbal response from the child since his entrance. Subjects were usually none too keen to tell the researchers exactly what they thought of them. And, while Yuan had heard that younger subjects generally needed a little more coaxing to respond, he hadn't heard of any others not receiving a single word from a subject. Subjects usually begged when expecting punishment at least. Yet, this one hadn't.

He sounded it out, still pointing. "Yu-an. Yuan. I. Yuan."

The child was listening. He could see it. This subject wasn't stupid. He could see intelligence in its eyes beneath the confusion. It was now looking even more likely that the child had simply not been taught to speak his language. Ninjas hailed from Mizuho, summoners mostly from Balacruf – both regions which spoke their own language, separate to that of the two warring countries of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla.

"Yuan. My name Yuan," he repeated one last time before slowly, carefully, so as not to frighten the child again, pointing his finger at the subject. The subject flinched, but continued to watch the half-elf intently, its eyes flickering between his and the finger. "You? Your name?"

He received no response, biting back an impatient sigh and bring his finger back to point at himself before stating, "My name is Yuan. I Yuan." The finger gently returned to the child. "What is your name? Your name? You?"

The child continued to stare. Yuan stared back.

He laid his hand on his chest. "Yuan," he said firmly yet quietly, pleased to note that the child didn't draw away from him. Next, he stretched the hand out to the child, waiting, remaining there for several seconds.

The child blinked, dropping its eyes from the half-elf to the cold, metal surface of the bed they sat on. Yuan retracted his hand, watching the subject patiently.

Finally, its dry, cracked lips opened, and it managed a quiet, hoarse murmur of, "Kratos."

Yuan managed to catch his jaw before it dropped to the floor, turning the movement into a wide, indulgent smile, inwardly grinning at his success. He nodded, giving a slow, friendly wave. "Hello, Kratos."

His experiment blinked. Its mouth opened tentatively again, Yuan holding his breath, expecting more speech, perhaps another sentence. His hopes were dashed as the sound of a bell reverberated through the cell causing Yuan to flinch and the subject to start violently, curling into a tiny ball on the steel sleeping table with a horrified cry, convulsing with the force of its fearful shaking.

The half-elf swore under his breath, recognising the alarm calling all personnel of this area to the control room on the floor above. This interrogation was over for now, but Yuan was not about to lose his progress to this intrusion. It was obvious that the subject had been interrogated crudely and that this could cause the slightest sound or movement to cause it to withdraw from him, back into itself, into a blubbering wreck.

In order to salvage the day's work, Yuan would have to pull something out of the bag, a kind gesture but something short enough that he could get to the control room quickly enough so as not to be considered late. It would be frowned upon to be late on his first day in this area.

Leaning forwards, he rubbed softly at the child's back, ignoring the piercing shriek at the first contact. That proved it; this subject had definitely been interrogated at the more violent end of the spectrum and for no knowledge, if Yuan's first theories on the speech capabilities of his project were correct, and they nearly always were. He wondered now whether the operative he had replaced had been taken off the case for negligence.

"Goodbye, Kratos," he said softly, close to the subject's greasy locks, and the small, rounded ear they hid. He continued as he left, despite knowing the experiment couldn't understand a word he was saying, something just telling him it felt right to, "I'll see you tomorrow."

He wouldn't be returning in the afternoon. If he was going to have to teach the subject to speak his language to ensure the success of his project, then he would have to dedicate the afternoon to visiting someone else.

At the thought of that, a smile grew on his face.

**AN: And that's the end of the prologue. The next chapter should be up relatively soon, depending on how much time I get to type it up once 'Paternity' is finished.**

**Here's hoping I'll be seeing you next chapter.**

**Thank you for reading, and please leave me a review on the way out. I'm always open to suggestions and constructive criticism to improve my writing and it's always great to know that you're reading, particularly if you liked it. A 'hello' is also received with appreciation and a nice author-y grin. ^_^**

**~ThePurpleRose**


	2. Chapter One

**AN: Okay, I actually deleted the author's note that was originally here, because, as some of your will already know, I write the one at the top when I start to write the chapter.**

**I figured I should warn you all that I got a little carried away with the sections of this chapter, so I've decided to split the chapter into two. Yeah, I'm sorry for the overload of Dara in the beginning of the chapter. It's a little long-winded, but please bear with it; she does have quite a prominent behind-the-scenes role in the fic, so she needed a little character development here in order for the later scenes she's involved in to make proper sense.**

**But anyway, I hope you like it! ^_^**

**Oh, also, I chose to update this instead of the other fics I really should be working on because it was already finished and typed and my exams won't allow me to write anything decent until they finish next week. Wish me luck, guys!**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own ToS, only this fic and the OCs that appear in it.**_

* * *

><p>Dara Ka-Fai didn't consider herself an unfortunate woman. She might have been captured by Sylvaranti researchers as a child but that didn't mean that she had no life there. Captivity hadn't been so bad once she'd figured out how to work the system. She was lucky she was a pure-blooded elf; she was far too valuable to be too roughly handled and there had been too much for them to study and monitor, since they knew very little about her race, for them to attempt any other experiments on her.<p>

While she had been growing into a woman, they had simply been interested in how elves grew and aged. They were still interested in it now; the lifespan of an elf. They still took mana-readings from her three times a day, weekly blood samples and blood-pressure tests and a full physical examination once every month, but she found that she didn't mind any more.

It wasn't that she'd rather be in captivity than free. When she had first been brought into the facility she'd searched for any possible means of escape, assaulting guards, using her mana to manipulate the lock system subtly beneath the polycarbonate shackles they had used to restrict her violent spells and even attempting to slip through the bars whenever the guards changed shifts.

But however much she hated that they were always there, always watching her, observing her behaviour, recording how she would react to different situations, she now owed them, and she hated them for it. She could no longer bring herself to fight the experiments, even if they weren't the violent kind – and she knew the kinds of experiments they did here, the tortures they inflicted upon innocent civilians and opposing soldiers alike. They thought she couldn't hear them discuss it, laugh about the atrocities they regularly committed, but she could.

Either way, she knew they were monsters, the kind of men that shouldn't be allowed to walk on this earth, the men who were the reason the elves hated the humans. But she had only them to thank for the best thing she had ever had in her life: her son.

She knew he had been born as an experiment too. She was only too aware that they had only allowed her to keep him with her for so long, only allowed her the space, comfort and items that she needed to care for him to observe their behaviour to get yet more readings about her illusive race. She was also painfully aware that had his results on the rigorous IQ tests they had subjected him to not been as good as they were, they would have taken him from her and used him as just another host body,

That thought made her blood boil; that anyone, elf, half-elf, human or dwarf would ever willingly torture and brutally murder their own flesh and blood. It disgusted her. At her lowest points, she understood exactly why half-elves were so hated. Yuan, her beloved child, was half human, half a pitiful, revolting creature who would happily slaughter his own kin for his own gain.

There were times when she could barely stand to look at him, her own son, her family. Those times were more frequent now, as she watched how he slaved away for the recognition of his criminal father, especially now she knew he had been given a living being to work on and it wasn't just machinery he was experimenting on. But it wouldn't be fair; he was half hers too. It was her responsibility to make sure he didn't turn into a monster like the rest of them, to make sure he would continue to be her son and not just another scientist.

So she persevered. She put on a warm, welcoming smile; she hummed; she sang, she taught him of his heritage, told him tales she'd heard when she was much, much younger, tales from her life as free elf, that her mother had told her. She told him how proud she was of him, simply for being him, and how nothing he did mattered; she would always be proud of her beautiful boy.

And she would laugh as he ducked away in embarrassment, listen encouragingly to his stories, the things he'd heard other scientists say, his frustration or elation at his work with machines. And at night, if he stayed with her, she would stroke his hair while he slept. Her smile would melt away to be left with concern while she worried over his future.

The tell-tale click and beep combination as the code to unlock her door was keyed in alerted her to her visitor, causing her to jump out of her thoughts and rise from her seat at the simple table she had been awarded after Yuan had been born. That was one more advantage to her situation; now that Yuan was working for the facility and they had allowed him to remain with her throughout his childhood, they had been forced to provide her with enough items to keep her living in relative comfort to ensure the cooperation of their most promising technician.

It was much too early for Yuan to visit her though. The clock had only just struck two and her son usually worked at least until five. She moved over to the door and stood waiting as it slid back into the wall to admit a blue-haired, ponytailed figure in a pristine, white lab coat.

Her son stepped leisurely into the room, not flinching as the door slid closed as soon as he moved clear of it and away from the pressure pad that served as her doormat.

"You're early," she commented, as he seated himself on one of the two rickety chairs that came with the table. She had an armchair now too, but neither of them ever used it when in the company of the other. "Is everything alright?"

He didn't look too upset. His eyes sported a slightly troubled look, a frown tugging at his eyebrows, but he managed his usual, honest smile in response to her concern as she settled herself at the table opposite him.

"Mother..." he began, his mouth closing, the frown deepening as he realised he didn't know how to continue.

She leaned forwards, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on the backs of her hands. Her vibrant blue hair, the exact same shade as his, pooled around her elbows, falling away from her face so he could clearly see the encouraging smile she directed at him.

He sighed, giving her a quick smile in return before asking slowly, delicately, "How do you teach a child to speak?"

Her eyebrows rose in response. She didn't need to ask the questions his question had elicited. She knew from the way Yuan's eyes dropped to the table that he knew he'd have to answer them. She merely watched him in silence while he planned the words he was going to use. He was logical and secretive now, so different from the little boy she remembered. Back then he'd been secretive too, but never to her.

"I... Mother, this probably sounds crazy, but I need to know how you teach children to speak. You taught me to speak, right?"

She nodded. "Why do you need to know?" she enquired, her own eyes as calculating as his were whenever he was thinking about work.

He sighed, pushing back the hair that framed his face, free of his ponytail. "The case they gave me is a child," he admitted almost guiltily.

She took in a harsh breath. "A child?" she echoed. "Oh, Yuan, no."

"It's not like that," he defended. He knew how much she hated the experimental side of the facility. He knew how she hated the idea of stealing innocent children away from their homes and families, how she only tolerated his involvement in interrogations of the Tethe'allan forces because it was the only reason he was allowed a free life within the facility.

"It isn't an experiment," he insisted. "I'm only supposed to get information from it. It's just, the kid's the son of a ninja summoner, either from Mizuho or Balacruf. I can't speak either of those languages."

"Most of them speak the common tongue as well, like the elves do," she said begrudgingly, the hardness in her eyes telling him how upset she was over the idea of a child being trapped within the facility, her answer only borne from the love she still held from her son and the knowledge that as soon as this project was complete and he had his information, he would be initiated into the tech labs officially, away from the horrors of the living experiments for good.

Yuan shook his head. "That's just it," he said, scowling. "The kid doesn't even speak. I introduced myself, and nothing."

"It is truly terrifying for a child to be ripped away from home and thrown into a cell," she hinted, boring into his bright, green eyes with her own open blue ones.

"I know," he responded, throwing out his hands before leaning back in his seat, arms folded, his scowl now more firmly in place. "But that's not it. I got a name in the end, but I had to repeat mine and act it out and stuff. The kid doesn't speak our language at all."

"You said the child gave you a name," she said. Yuan grunted in affirmation in the pause before she continued, "What is it?"

"Oh, the kid's name is Kratos," he revealed nonchalantly.

She smiled. "That's a strong name. The child is a little boy then?"

"Male, yes," Yuan confirmed. "But what has that got to do with it? Are boys harder to teach?"

"Apparently," she responded, a small frown tugging down her lips, to which her son reacted to with a low groan. "But you've missed the point. If this little boy has a name, you should use it."

Yuan's nose wrinkled in distaste. "It's only my project for a little while," he muttered in protest, ignoring his mother's sharp, piercing blue glance.

"It'll take longer than that if you're going to teach him how to speak," she said darkly, rising from the table into her little kitchenette. Leaning against the counter, she observed the way her son looked almost disgusted by the idea of spending any large amount of time working on something that wasn't as logical as blueprints and metal.

He clicked his teeth together in irritation and impatience, huffing at the prospect of the task he'd been given, Dara watching thoughtfully all the while he brooded, unsure or unwilling to ask his next question. She was aware of how aloof her son was and how little he knew of people, but she hadn't realised how deep his need to be away from them was until now.

She would tell him what he wanted to know. Maybe this project would beneficial to him. Maybe he could learn something from it. At the very least, he would teach him about the world. Maybe then, he'd understand.

* * *

><p>Kratos lay curled into a ball beneath the scratchy fibres of the dusky blanket, his arms wrapped tightly around his battered body in the hope of locking in what little warmth there was to be had. His eyes remained wide, glassily open onto the blanket. He wasn't sure if he was tired or not; he was always tired, whether he had just woken or not, and time seemed to not exist between the four walls of his cell. There wasn't any sun to rise or set; there were only the lights, the dim, dismal lighting that gave power to the darkness.<p>

At least, it had until that man had arrived, the man who had made the room brighter. The shadows didn't scare him anymore. The shadows had gone away. But the light hurt his eyes and shone through the blanket, washing him in a stormy sea of blue and grey. And he didn't know of this was any better.

His eyes drifted closed again. It could've been a second or an hour, but it was time. And it was time when the cell wasn't there anymore and the blanket wasn't a storm and he'd ran through a bush and been clumsy near the fire and he'd fallen down. Nothing else had happened to him, nothing sinister, only accidents not punishments. It was time his soul could have, back home, in his world, where there weren't men in white coats to shout at him, scream at him, hurt him. There was only the soft hum of voices, the laughter, the singing and his mother to hug him.

It was time he could feel safe with.

But it was over too soon. It was always over too soon. The door opened, the little boy being torn from his happy world into the harsh reality, jumping up, his heartbeat racing as the blanket fell away to reveal a man with blue hair and a white coat, the one who had made it brighter. He thought his name was Yuan, but he didn't understand the words he spoke. It was so confusing. Kratos didn't think he understood anything anymore.

"Hello Kratos," the man said in a friendly voice, as Kratos flinched at the sound of the door clanging closed. "See, I told you I'd come back today, didn't I?"

Kratos didn't understand. The man walked over to him, the boy cringing away, unable to move any further from the white coat, already crammed into the corner of his cot. He didn't know why they kept coming for him, why they couldn't just leave him alone. Why were they always so angry with him? What had he done wrong?

This man wasn't angry though. And he didn't understand this either. The man set down a basin of water on the ground by the cot, lifting a cloth from it and wringing it out.

"I know you can't understand a word I'm saying, but I'm not here to hurt you, okay? I don't want you get ill and die; I'd be demoted if anything like that happened to a sub- to you. Who am I kidding? You haven't got a clue what I'm saying anyway... yet. I could sing the alphabet and you'd probably think it was some kind of pagan ritual to steal your soul or something," Yuan said, more to the cloth than the child.

Deeming his task completed satisfactorily, he sat at the head of the bed, crossing his legs and smiling encouragingly. Kratos remembered that smile. He remembered it on a man's face, a black-haired man who tickled him and played with him when he was littler. He remembered it on many faces, nice faces, faces of people who cared for him. But it had been on the other man's face at first too, the man who had shouted at him, the one who made him hurt.

He didn't know what it meant anymore. Nothing meant the same here as it had before he'd been brought here. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Here, look," Yuan indicated, holding the cloth out to him, slowly reaching for his cheek with it.

Kratos jerked his head back, releasing a small cry as it smashed into the wall behind him. He wasn't sure. He didn't know. What did Yuan want? Why couldn't he leave him alone?

Yuan sighed. "It's not going to hurt you. Look, it cleans, see?" He brought it up to his own cheek and rubbed it, leaving the skin there slightly wet, Kratos' eyes drawn to the way the light sparkled from the water left behind there.

The cloth moved back towards him, the child choosing to remain eerily still this time, screwing his eyes shut as if to block out the possibility of pain only for them to snap back open as he felt the warmth seep through his skin from the damp cloth as Yuan gently rubbed his cheek with it.

Amusement twinkled in the half-elf's eyes, a small chuckle escaping him with the words, "Heh, yeah, it's warm too. See, it's not scary, is it? It isn't so bad."

Kratos blinked rapidly as Yuan swept the cloth all over his face, rearranging a towel over his shoulder to enable him to hold back Kratos' hair and rub softly at the dirt and dried blood that stained the boy's skin. Kratos found himself relaxing into the first kind contact he had received from the men in white coats since he had been brought to the facility.

The half-elf noticed, offering a small, pleased smile at the progress as he returned the cloth to the basin, wringing it out again to bring it back up to the boy's face and give it another careful scrub. That done, he threw the cloth back to the basin again and held Kratos' head in his much larger, long fingered hands, the child growing more anxious, his eyes gradually widening, heartbeat quickening as the man continued to study him.

"Good," he said, leaning back. "At least there's nothing on your face that needs more medical attention."

His eyes moved from Kratos to the basin, the child releasing a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, relief washing over him at the prospect of the focus being elsewhere, not on him for once.

Then the white coat wearing man frowned and Kratos shrank back again. What had he done this time? He hadn't meant to, whatever it was, he hadn't meant to upset the man. He didn't want Yuan to be angry with him too. He wanted to say he was sorry and make it alright again, but he didn't know how to. He'd already tried that with the other man and the other man had been furious. He didn't want to have to hurt again; he already hurt.

"You're really... less clean than I was expecting," Yuan finally concluded. "You need a proper bath, but if I take you to get one, protocol dictates you'll have to be chained and then you'll panic again, won't you?"

He turned back to the child, who was doing just that, breathing quickly, preparing himself for the pain. It didn't hurt so badly when he was ready for it. When he couldn't see it coming it was always so much worse.

Yuan released a low groan, then reached out to the child with a reassuring smile. "This lab coat needs a wash anyway," he reasoned, ruffling the child's hair and causing Kratos to flinch and screw his eyes shut. "I'm not here to hurt you," he repeated. "Come here."

With that, he pulled the small, frail form of the terrified child into his arms, ignoring the shrill cry the action incited. Kratos' entire body stiffened into a horrified rigidity, his eyes snapping open, wide and panicked. Yuan's heartbeat thumped and thudded in his ears, its steady rhythm calming him with the large hand that rubbed warmth and comfort into his back.

He found himself relaxing, the soft vibrations of Yuan's quiet voice flowing around him as the man soothed him in his strange tongue. He could smell something natural about the man, a clean scent that seemed to envelop the child. It was nothing like home, like the hugs his mother had given him; she smelled of leather, soap and home. But it was still a feeling. One that he didn't mind feeling in this horrible new life.

But he was so tired now, so, so tired. His eyelids fluttered closed slowly, the boy snapping them open once again each time he realised he was falling asleep, just wanting to stay in the comforting embrace, listen to the soft melody of Yuan's voice, the weird words filling the air around him.

But he was just a child, an exhausted child, and he lost the battle and closed his eyes and drifted into dreams.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, that's where this chapter cuts. This is a little slow for a beginning but it will get a lot better; I'm working on it.<strong>

**Anyway, thank you for reading. Thanks to all the reviewers; you guys are the best! And as usual, any thoughts you have on it would be greatly appreciated.**

**Next chapter will see some fluffiness and the plot will thicken...**

**Until next chapter,**

**~ThePurpleRose**


	3. Chapter Two

**AN: Okay, this is chapter 3. There have been some sections added into this from the original chapter. So it's been chopped about a bit. But yeah, hopefully that hasn't detracted from it. I have tried to make it fit together. I had to cut out a piece of plot too, 'cause it interrupted something else... So yeah... This chapter is now much slower. Please bear with it. It picks up the pace next chapter. Oh and Kratos won't be like this forever. Next chapter will show a very different (hopefully cute) side of him – and the plot will move on more!**

**Also, sorry for the delay; I was doing Camp NaNoWriMo. It has now been postponed because I made some pretty bad mistakes at the start took ages to fix it then hurt my hand like a moron. So the days I've lost due to that and the fact that my birthday and two friends' birthdays are in what remains of this month means that with the amount my hand can cope with in writing, I can't write enough in the amount of time I have left to finish... So my August will be nice and fully booked.**

**But I do turn get to turn 18 this weekend. Adulthood... I really hope this doesn't means I'll have to start sorting out my car insurance before next year...**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own ToS, but I do own this little bit of fluff and stuff...**_

* * *

><p>Yuan sighed, beginning the difficult process of extricating himself from the sleeping subject in his lap. He'd already wasted too much time rocking the child pointlessly, despite the lack of consciousness from said experimental subject. He definitely needed to get that bath for the boy and as soon as that task was complete, this lab coat was being washed. More than once.<p>

Finally free, with the child still peacefully sleeping, Yuan made it to the door and keyed in the code to get out, unable to resist turning back to the figure before he could press the final digit.

"Stay here. I'll be right back, I promise," he called softly to the boy, frowning as he realised how pointless this was.

This was a subject, who couldn't go anywhere on account of being locked in, and it was hardly like the child was attached to him enough to actually care if he was there and was returning or not. But still, something told him it was the right thing to say and it was the same something that had guided him to hug the fragile creature in the first place. It seemed like the decision to go with that feeling had been the right one there, so why shouldn't he go with it? Even if it didn't seem like a rational, logical action.

That or the sleep deprivation was finally catching up with him. Either way, if it helped him to make this project a success, he'd take it. He knew full well that if he made this work, a promotion would be a certainty. Then he could take himself back up to the tech labs and work on what he liked best; magitechnology.

Full of determination, Yuan navigated the many bright, white corridors of the facility, pointedly ignoring all the operatives he passed as they went on with their daily activities. No-one ever spoke in the corridors of the A ranked areas; it was assumed that ears were everywhere and even your thoughts weren't your own and could be used by a subject as means of escape or attack.

Granted, there wasn't much talk in the main sections of the lower ranking areas where exsphere research was carried out either, but there it was mostly due to the workload. Each operative there would be responsible for a large number of subjects. In the A rank areas, operatives never had more than five subjects under their control and each subject would be a separate project. Exsphere research would use at least twenty subjects per project.

Yuan was just glad his project hadn't been in that department. The large number of subjects meant a large number of operatives and teamwork was not his strong point. He preferred to go solo and work on things that would stimulate his brain, give him something worthwhile to do. And if that was figuring out how to give his subject a bath then so be it.

He halted at the full metal door in front of him, entering the code for entry in record timing. The mechanism instantly recognised his weight on the pressure pad and swung open. Here, nothing was left to chance.

The woman inside looked up, startled, a thick book still held between her fingers as she jumped up from the armchair she'd been sitting in. As she recognised him, her features fell into a frown, but Yuan ignored it, instead striding past her to the small, in-built closet that tagged onto the side of the kitchenette.

"Yuan, what-" she began, moving over to him, though out of the way of the modest objects he was throwing behind him into the room.

He cut her short, turning to glance at her disapproving figure before continuing to empty the closet in a haphazard way. "Where's my old bath?" was his query.

Dara appeared taken aback for a moment, wondering, "Why would you need a metal tub?"

Then she waved him out of the way with a shooing gesture as he gave the short, simple response of, "Because I want to give the subj- the kid a bath."

She daintily picked her way across the storage boxes, books, Facility-approved testing toys and the clothes rack Yuan had managed to upset, to haul a grey, metallic tub out of the closet and in front of her son, who stared in awe at how easily it had been located. Now, she was smirking in amusement.

"And that's why you should just ask for things and not barge right in and make a mess that will take me until you leave work to clean up," she scolded, wagging a finger to him. "Honestly, Yuan you could be more careful; I didn't even know we had so many books..." She sighed, shaking her head in disapproval at the various items scattered all over her floor before turning back to her son with another amused smile. "Go on then, you've got your tub. Haven't you got a child to clean up?"

Cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment, Yuan picked up the bath, which, thankfully, was just the right size for the petite boy in cell 709 and replied, "Yeah, well.. Thanks Mother, I'll see you later."

He turned away, hefting the bath onto his shoulder. Dara called him back. "Yuan, wait!" she called, smiling softly at her son as he obediently paused, looking over his shoulder at her. "Make sure you dip your elbow in it to test the temperature. A child's skin is more sensitive and your elbows are more like it than your hand," she advised.

He nodded once and moved towards the door again but she stopped him a second time.

"And Yuan," she added, her blue eyes meeting his green as he spun round impatiently. "Be careful," she said quietly, like he was doing something more dangerous, like she was worried about he might fall over and hurt himself.

"I'm always careful," he responded dismissively, rolling his eyes. "I'm not a kid anymore, Mother. I'm just cleaning one."

She laughed softly, sounding almost forced. "I know, but you're still my baby."

He flushed an embarrassed red, the tips of the almost imperceptible points of ears turning a darker shade than the rest of him before he caught the laughter in her eyes and turned himself back to the door again, determined not to look at her.

"Bye, Mother," he mumbled quickly, keying in the code with even faster fingers.

Dara's smile widened as she watched him leave, throwing the bath out of the door ahead of him to get around the obstacle of the pressure pad and instant door closure, and still managing to give her a quick, sheepish wave as the metal barrier crashed between them, the facility separating them once again, as it always would as long as she was a subject there and he was a researcher.

But as usual, they both stubbornly ignored it. Dara didn't see her son's smile fade and both his eyes and his expression harden once the door was closed and neither did he see the sadness in her eyes or the way she shook her head. It was just another day. And as usual, there was no time to linger as mother and son. Only time for work, as always.

* * *

><p>Sleep was dreamless this time. It was like he was floating in the dark, only the dark wasn't scary anymore. It was like a blanket, the nice, fluffy kind – a cloud he couldn't see. It wasn't like the dreams he savoured in the cell, the ones in which he was happy, but at the same time, he thought he was.<p>

But this, like the happy dreams, was over too soon too and his eyes were snapping open at a loud crash to reveal the whitewashed ceiling of the small room he was imprisoned in and the door closing behind a blue-haired figure in a grubby lab coat.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kratos. Did I wake you up?" Yuan asked, pushing back his hair with a smile and shrugging his shoulders.

The child blinked, Yuan going back to the metal bath that sat by his feet. It made a horrible grating sound as he dragged it across the floor, causing Kratos to whimper and wince. Once it was there, he straightened and looked down at the object, examining it with his eyes before going back to the door.

"I'll be back in a minute, Kratos," he said, touching the box suspended on the wall out of a child's reach and pressing his fingers to it in different orders. "I need to get you some water for that bath."

Then he was gone again. Kratos cocked his head to one side, fighting with his instincts. He wanted to go look at the new object but he didn't know when or even if Yuan was coming back or if it would be the other man. And from experience, new items didn't always lead to good things. The only good thing that had been put in his cell since he had been locked into it was the blanket he slept under. It was probably better for him to stay away.

Yuan returned, this time with one bucket hooked over his elbow and another in his hand. He spared Kratos only a quick, "Hello, Kratos" before setting one bucket down on the ground by the bath and pouring the clear contents of the other into the bath. The other bucket quickly followed suit, the child leaning onto the edge of the bed, craning his neck to see that the bath was now partway full as Yuan dipped a finger into it.

"Hm, needs more hot," he said quietly, absentmindedly wiping the dripping digit on his lab coat. "I won't be long," he added with a smile for Kratos as he retrieved the two buckets and headed for the door for a second time.

Kratos watched the man leave, his eyes sticking to the spot he had last seen Yuan even after the door had clicked closed and blocked his view. It was safer. It was safer than looking elsewhere. If he looked at the bath, he would want to go to it, to have a look at it. And it might hurt him like the box they gave him when he first got here. Yuan had touched the liquid in the bath so he thought it shouldn't hurt him but that other man had touched the box too. But when Kratos had touched the box it had flashed blue and burnt him, sending fiery electricity searing through his skin.

The door opened again, sending a different kind of jolt through the boy as he shot backwards on the bed, sitting bolt upright, inwardly panicking, wishing for it to be Yuan and not the man coming back to shout and hurt him again.

It was and, for some reason, Kratos felt his heartbeat calming again, watching the blue-haired man struggle with the two brimming buckets he carried and the bundle of towelling he had tucked in his lab coat. Yuan hadn't hurt him yet. And he hadn't shouted. And that should have put Kratos on edge but it didn't. Instead, it made him feel safer and that was stupid too; his mother had made him feel safe too but she hadn't kept him safe. He had still ended up here. So what was true and what wasn't? How should he feel?

He didn't know and that wasn't gratifying either. He felt lost, more lost than he'd felt before and he didn't know how to be found again. He tucked his knees under his chin and hugged them tightly. It wasn't as good as his mother's hugs. It wasn't even as good as Yuan's hug had been. It was just himself and his own bony arms. He wanted his mother. Why hadn't she found him yet? She promised. She promised she was coming back.

"Right then." Yuan's voice made him jump, emitting a startled squeak and burying his face in his knees. "I've filled it most of the way; I've dipped my elbow in it so it won't burn you and I've got some soap and a towel to dry you off. Now I've just got to get you in it."

He heard the footsteps but didn't open his eyes. The man's voice came from just next to him and he felt the warm hand close around his small shoulder. "Come on, Kratos. It's bath time."

Even then, his eyes remained stubbornly shut. He knew how this was going to end. First Yuan had been nice to him, then came the new object and now there was only one way this could end. The lab coat wearing man had made him feel safe and now he was going to put him into that bath and it would hurt him. And it wasn't fair.

Yuan was the only person who had been nice to him while he'd been here and not hurt him afterwards. If he turned out to be nasty then Kratos wouldn't be able to understand anything anymore. Why couldn't everyone just be like they were at home, where if people didn't like you then they stayed away and most people were really nice?

"Hey, Kratos, are you listening to me?"

His knees were tugged down from his face. It wasn't a forceful gesture; it was just Yuan trying to uncurl the child, but it was to Kratos. To Kratos, it was Yuan pulling his little world apart. Because that was what was going to happen, he was sure of it. He only screwed his eyes closed more tightly, hoping to block out this horrible world he didn't understand, block out the destruction of the world he did understand and disappear into the world he'd lost, where everything had been simple and happy and bright.

"Kratos, you're getting in the bath if I have to put you in it," Yuan added impatiently, one of his hands grabbing the boy's tiny wrist while the other hand tugged at the material of his too big tunic. "Come on now, before it gets cold."

Kratos' lip quivered. The grip on his wrist wasn't as tight as the other man's; it was firm but it didn't make him want to scream. He still wanted to cry though. He heard Yuan sigh, the man clearly fed up with waiting for him. The next thing he knew, his arm was being forced back through the sleeve of his shirt, which was then pulled roughly over his head and discarded.

His eyes snapped open, tears flowing freely down his pale cheeks as he cried out, jerking away, a look of horror on his face. A flash of a feral face momentarily stunned him. Here it came. Here came the fire. Here came the pain.

When would they stop?

* * *

><p>Yuan drew back sharply, unable to suppress the sharp intake of breath before slamming his hand down over his mouth and dropping the dirty tunic on the floor at his feet. On the metal bed, the subject sobbed, curled in on itself, in a little ball in the corner, where it had scuttled as soon as the shirt had been removed. The half-elf shook his head and joined it on the bed, pulling it onto his lap and rubbing at its arm. He couldn't bring himself to touch the sores and burns of the back before him, mottled with half-healed wounds, scabs and scars.<p>

That cemented it. This subject had been handled badly. If the guy Yuan had taken Kratos' case from hadn't been fired or at least punished, it would be a gross injustice. Yuan gritted his teeth biting down on the anger that now coursed through him and looking down at the subject to distract himself. It didn't help. It only made him more furious to see how fragile and frightened this child was.

He shook his head. All he could think of was damage control; nothing else would actually help the situation. Any unwanted feelings of anger would only be picked up on by the subject and therefore set back his progress in gaining the trust he would need both to teach to it speak and to get the information that would complete the project.

More importantly right now though was cleaning out those injuries and to do that, it was imperative to get the subject into the bath, which he hoped was still warm at least. He looped an arm around the subject, one hand supporting his head and gently feathering his hair while his other held the weight of the feather light figure he supported. Then he slowly stood and sat down, the subject still in his arms, next to the bath.

He hushed it as it continued to quietly cry. "Hey, hey, I'm not going to hurt you. Honestly, I'm not going to hurt you. But I've got to get you in this tub or those might get infected and we don't want that, do we?"

With that, he gently tugged the rest of the subject's clothing off, the subject writhing as if in pain, covering its face, almost clawing at it. It was disturbingly silent now, though tears were still tumbling from beneath its hands. Yuan found himself unable to resist pulling the hands away with one of his own, wiping away the tears carefully with the other.

"Hey, don't cry," he soothed, "it's alright. I'm not hurting you. What are all these tears for?"

The subject's eyes had opened at the sound of his voice. It now stared silently up at him, its eyes still wide, wild and fearful but its body limp. Yuan took the fragile form and lifted it, gently slipping it into the warm water of the bath, his hand lingering behind its head just in case it slipped, not wanting it to sustain any further injury or experience any more pain.

The subject's eyes grew even wider, its expression surprised. Yuan smiled encouragingly, watching as it spread its fingers and pushed through the surface of the water, separating it. It was the closest thing to play that Yuan had seen from the subject. It was the closest to being happy that Yuan had seen the subject be. Even when sleeping, the child hadn't quite looked at peace.

Now content that the subject was safely in the bath, Yuan fished a flannel from his pocket and dipped it in the water before gently rubbing the subjects shoulder with it. The flesh he cleaned barely even moved, the subject hardly flinching this time. Yuan's small smile briefly widened at this. This meant the subject was starting to trust him. This meant progress.

He carefully scrubbed the rest of the dirty arm before him, moving quickly on to the second, working efficiently as an operative of the Facility should, even though this process was not exactly as protocol dictated. If Yuan had been following protocol, he would have had to chain the subject's hands and feet to limit movement and lead it to the exsphere research area to use the communal showering facilities there. But that would have jeopardised the project's progress. Besides, there wasn't anything in the rules that forbade the actions Yuan had taken. He was just taking his initiative.

This way, in the bath, the subject was very compliant, content just to sit, enthralled by the water beneath its fingers, while Yuan cleaned the dirt and dried blood from both arms and even its neck, getting away with only a minor wince from that action. It didn't even seem too frightened. Well, no more than usual anyway, and that was a bonus. That was how Yuan wanted it to be.

Yuan pulled back, scanning the subject with his keen, green eyes, those eyes falling on the area he would have to clean next, the one he was least looking forward to sorting out – the subject's battered back. He grimaced, feeling his toes curl in his shoes at the thought of touching the half-healed wounds that marred the pale skin that stretch over the subject's young skeleton. A cold, furious revulsion filled him, his features moulding into a perfect expression of disgust. It was disgusting. It was so counterproductive to do such things to such vulnerable subjects. It only lost information with the life it took. But at least this time, all wasn't lost. Yuan would make sure of that. He promised himself.

He wouldn't let this life's information go to waste. He was going to do this properly, if not completely by the book then completely by his own rules, his – dare he even think it – morals. Letting this subject's injuries become infected certainly didn't fit well with either of those things. He sighed. There was no way around it.

"I'm sorry, Kratos," he said, softly, reaching out to feather the subject's hair with his soaked hand.

The subject's attention snapped to him, wide, innocent eyes taking in his own apologetic ones. It blinked in shock as a droplet of water dripped from Yuan's retreating hand onto the tip of its nose and ran off, dropping into the water with a small 'plop'. A gasp escaped its lips before those lips pressed together in something that could have become a smile but didn't as its eyes widened again and returned anxiously to Yuan.

"This is going to hurt a bit, okay?" he told those eyes. Then he reconsidered. Why was he even bothering to sugar-coat this? It wasn't like the subject could actually understand him. It wasn't even like this was a real child. It was a subject. Yuan couldn't start thinking about it like it was the same as everyone else he knew. He was only going to get the information he needed and go off to the tech labs to forget about it anyway.

His mother's caring face flashed before his eyes. He wasn't sure why. Well, he was, but it didn't bear thinking about. She wasn't just a subject. She was nothing like the summoner's son in front of him. She may have started out that way but she was a person like anyone else he knew. Except she wasn't. She was his mother. She was better than everyone else he knew. He loved her. He didn't care for anyone else, especially not a subject.

It wasn't worth thinking about. He had a task to finish; that took priority. Until he had that information, it wasn't worth thinking about anything else. It was only a waste of his own resources.

"Alright, this is probably going to hurt a lot. Just don't blame me, okay? I'm not doing this because I want to. It's for your own good," he said, hoping to see some understanding in those eyes.

He didn't of course. It was an empty wish but one he could never help but make. With a sigh and a slightly self-scorning smile, he lifted the flannel out of the water, braced one hand on the subject's shoulder and began to clean.

The subject howled.

* * *

><p>The pain was blinding, a red, fiery inferno that raged everywhere that was anywhere and several places that weren't. All he could see was black and red that danced mockingly in front of his face like a picture he had drawn that had come alive to eat him up. All he could hear was this horrible, keening screech that pulsed through his head, the pressure crashing through his skull.<p>

He might have been screaming. He might have been crying. He might have been apologising needlessly again. He might even have died, except he knew he hadn't because if he was dead then it wouldn't hurt so much. Unless he really had been that naughty because hell would hurt a lot, he thought, and if he was in hell then it would serve him right.

The pain slowly dulled and there was a bang and he thought that maybe he was dead. Maybe the pain had been what it felt like to die. It was horrible. He never wanted to do it again. But if he was really dead then he didn't think he'd have to.

But then the bang went away and he could hear the sound of someone sobbing. He wanted to apologise to them. He wasn't sure why. Then he realised it was him and he didn't want to apologise anymore. He just wanted to cry even more.

Yuan was still there, looking at him grimly. That just made Kratos feel worse. Why did they have to do this to him? It wasn't fair! They'd taken everything away from him! They had taken him away from everything he knew, everyone he cared about, all that was right and nice about the world. And just when he'd thought he'd found something to remind him that the world wasn't bad, just when he thought there was someone who wasn't the wrong way around and nasty when he had been told people were good, they had to take that away from him too.

"It's for your own good," the man whispered. "It's for your own good."

He reached a large hand towards the distraught boy. Kratos screamed, hoping that the sound could carry him away from here, hoping it would block out this harsh reality. He would have curled into a ball, as small as he could be, or ran or hid but his body was so weak now. He wasn't sure if he was even feeling anything real with it at all. All he could to was screw his eyes shut as tightly as he could, so he didn't have to watch, didn't have to know it was Yuan who was hurting him, could believe that for once he was right and the man with the blue hair was nice and he was kind to him and wasn't as horrible as the other man. And that all of that pain never happened. It was all just a terrifying nightmare he could wake up from and be at home.

But that wasn't to be. He felt the man's arms close around him, felt himself being lifted, something dry, warm and soft wrapping around him, covering and drying his entire body. Still, he kept his eyes closed, clinging to the belief that he could be safe and escape from what was real into what should be real but wasn't anymore. And then the soft thing was gone, and it was replaced with something less soft, a thinner cloth that was warm like a hug only without the arms of another person. A hug from the air.

Then it was a real hug and he wasn't on the floor anymore. Now he was really in the air. Now he wasn't and he was still in the hug, still being held. His eyes opened, meeting the green ones of Yuan, who smiled and hushed him.

Kratos wanted to scramble away, escape from the man he couldn't understand, who had both given him his kindness and hope and hurt him and taken the hope away. But his body felt cold, so cold and tired and weak. And he couldn't even hold his head up anymore. It fell limply onto the man's black clad chest, where he could hear that heartbeat again, that calming, steady thump, continuous, simple, unchanging like life in the village had been before he had been taken here.

Tears flowed freely down his frozen cheeks as he tried not to compare Yuan to his mother. Yuan smelled different, smelled wrong, and wasn't as soft and didn't sing like his mother did. But he was softer now than he was before.

The boy noticed the lab coat wasn't worn by the man anymore; it was wrapped around him. He knew it was wrong because he didn't understand Yuan anymore, never really had aside from his belief that people were good, the belief that wasn't right anymore, but he was still grateful for it.

It didn't stop the pain of betrayal though or the sharp sting of being wrong again, of not knowing anything and being completely lost in a world so alien to his own that he wondered if he was a dream himself, dreamed up by the nasty men.

Wrapped in the lab coat of the stranger he had thought he knew, Kratos cried himself into a state of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, chaptire trois est fini! Yeah, I don't know what else to say down here that I haven't already up top... Except that I've already got some of the next chapter (that was supposed to be in this chapter) written out so next update should be quicker. But I couldn't fit it into this 5000 word monster with all the other stuff I felt I had to fit into the fic. In fact, hardly any of the original chapter 3 that I wrote out by hand in my notebook so long ago is actually in the finished product...<strong>

**Also, the repetitiveness will cease. And Kratos will not keep sleeping all the time. Sorry guys, but it will get better. You'll see why I have to do this now later on.**

**But yeah, I hope you liked it and if not, if it seemed a bit too slow, please stick with it; I have got some really great things planned for this fic, both coming soon (you will see hints in the next chapter) and later on. So yeah, here's hoping you stick around!**

**Thanks to all you amazing reviewers! You guys not only help me to write better but inspire me to write more and update more quickly and put a big grin on my face.**

**So thanks for reading! I think this might even end up being the last thing I upload while I'm still 17 (and not yet acting like that let alone 18 ^_^)... Though I'll try to update something else before the weekend's celebrating.**

**Now I need to go get some sleep...**

**Until next time (hopefully),**

**~ThePurpleRose**


End file.
